


Number Seven

by Judeyjude



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Protective James Potter, a very very long staircase, depends on what you think of being run over and stabbed in the chest by a box, fuck off i'm fine! remus lupin, james and remus are bff4life, james and sirius are gross sport people, or meet ugly, there is a long staircase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13299402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judeyjude/pseuds/Judeyjude
Summary: Remus blinked up at the ceiling, flat on his back. Someone talked. Belatedly, he said, “Ow.”“Oh, fuck, shit, dude, are you okay? Oh, god, I’m so sorr—oh fuck, you’re Remus. I just knocked down Remus fucking Lupin. James is going to kill me. I’m going to kill me.”----James drags Remus to a party.





	Number Seven

**Author's Note:**

> for the R/S 24 hr challenge

“James, James, please, no.” Remus clung to his best friend—currently competing for the title of  _ ex _ -best friend—and dug his heels into the sidewalk. “Don’t make me do this.”

James easily pulled Remus up the long driveway. “You got out of the car, Rem. Subconsciously, you want to come with me. Really, I’m the one doing you a favor.”

 “Okay, Mr. I-Took-One-Required-Psychology-Class. You ripped the nastiest fart in the car and then locked me in until I begged to be let out.”

 The enormous house drew closer. Remus had some strong opinions on snow, mainly that it was too cold, but he agreed that it could make anything look prettier when fresh and white. Except now he found the exception to the rule.

“Where in the hell are we?” Remus asked. “This is like some old folklore shit right here. This house is going to eat us, you know that, right? It’s going to eat us. Why’s it all black? It’s like fifty shades of black. It makes snow look evil. Snow, James. You know what, I bet the house will use the snow to freeze our organs to keep them fresh for the sellers.”

“Is that how organ selling works?”

“You’re the pre-med, you tell me. I figured it was like how you freeze peas. I don’t know, I guess peas are canned, too, if you have juices. The house has at least eight extra rooms it can use for can storage.”

James grabbed Remus’ shoulders and pulled him to the side, right next to the steps leading to the meticulously carved blackwood entrance. Raising his eyebrows, James asked, “You done now? Everything will be okay. We can leave right now if you want to.”

_ God, James and his stupid doe eyes.  _ Remus scuffed his boot against the ground and sighed. “No.”

“You’re shaking.”

“Barely. It’s my meds.” Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m not nervous. Just don’t like trust fund baby events that I’m not invited to.”

“Oh, piss off. Everyone loves an unexpected guest! The mystery. The intrigue. The gutsy suave bastard.” James grinned triumphantly at drawing a chuckle from Remus. “If anyone gives you shit, we’ll say you’re my date.”

“Ah, yes. I bet the student body would love to hear you’ve gone gay.”

James shrugged. “Not such a bad thing.”

Remus let a long pregnant pause pass before he commented, “Suspicious.”

“Great! Ready to go in then!” James shoved Remus up the steps and through the open threshold. 

A painful twenty minutes went by, socializing with different age ranges and types of people, before Remus slipped off James’ arm. He made a beeline for the grand staircase that looked over the main floor. The mansion lived up to the reputation Remus gave it—lots of dark shadowy corners to hide in. Using this to his advantage, Remus snuck further up the stairs and into the house’s heart.

Just as he began to relax in solitary silence, going over his Toni Morrison presentation in his head, something hard crashed into his chest.

Remus blinked up at the ceiling, flat on his back. Someone talked. Belatedly, he said, “Ow.”

“Oh, fuck, shit, dude, are you okay? Oh, god, I’m so sorr—oh  _ fuck _ , you’re Remus. I just knocked down Remus fucking Lupin. James is going to kill me.  _ I’m _ going to kill me.”

“You know who I am?” Remus sat up and rubbed his chest. He winced and changed to rubbing the back of his head.

There was a softly whispered  _ shit. _

Remus turned his attention to his assailant. They were half-shadowed, shoulders hunched tensely, and their fingers clutched a chest like their life depended on it. Deliriously, Remus thought of those little  _ 20 questions  _ toys and the standard question asking if the object is the size of a loaf of bread.

“What’s in the bread loaf cage?”

“Oh god, I’ve broken him.”

Remus glared and stood up, blindly pressing a hand to a wall as he wobbled. “I’m not broken. You’re Sirius,” he said. He felt warmth rush to his cheeks as he tried to gather his dignity by explaining, “The chest is the size of a bread loaf. What’s in it?”

“It’s not a chest, it’s a box,” Sirius corrected. His whole body loosened as he asked, “You know me?”

“You’re new on the team. I’ve seen you—number seven? And James loves you.”

“Number six, actually.” Sirius’ mouth made a strange move like it wanted to pout but Sirius was determined to keep a smirk in place.

“What’s in the chest?”

“Why should you get to know?”

“You nearly killed me with it. I think I deserve to know what’s in my murder weapon.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“Must be your fumes getting to me.”

“My fumes?”

“I know all about your flares for dramatics, Mr. Black,” Remus said. He leaned in close, a little curious when Sirius’ breath caught audibly. Remus simply grabbed the doorknob next to Sirius and twisted it, opening the door to a secret staircase. It was abnormally narrow, as if it was used only for old time servants getting around the house without being seen—worked well for Remus. He started up the stairs, flicking on a switch for dim lighting, and heard Sirius follow. “James and I mess with each other’s phones,” Remus explained. “I’ve seen your texts.”

A clunking sound rattled through the long staircase corridor. He heard Sirius curse and pick up the dropped chest.

Remus went on, “I’m quite surprised to see you standing, actually, seeing as you’ve ‘died’ about fifteen times.”

“Fuck off,” Sirius huffed.

Remus didn’t say anything for awhile. He was the one leading and he had no idea where he was going. He opened doors here and there, but nothing was interesting. He didn’t know why Sirius continued following him and Remus kept climbing higher and higher in the hopes that the other boy would leave. Being alone with a fairly attractive (Remus may have also opened some snapchats on James’ phone from Sirius) person wasn’t something Remus was familiar with as of recent. 

After he broke up with his last boyfriend, the asshole spread a rumor that Remus had cheated and that “bisexuals really can’t be trusted”. 

James broke the guy’s nose, of course, but Remus’ ex was a notorious social butterfly and the damage was done. Remus didn’t mind, really. It was kind of nice being alone and single. Which was why it made him all the more nervous when Sirius piped up from behind, telling Remus to  _ stay still. _

Remus watched as Sirius raised the chest above his head and pressed his back to the wall, side stepping up the stairs until one foot was on the same stair as Remus. 

“Follow me?”

Remus mimicked Sirius, flattening himself against the opposite wall. He stretched his neck up, as if that somehow gave Sirius more room, and said, “Sure.” 

Sirius took his sweet ass time passing Remus, their chests pressing against each other for a few brief moments. “I swear, if you drop that on my head,” Remus trailed off.

Sirius laughed and got onto the steps above Remus, stopping his side-crab-walk and moving ahead at a brisk pace. Remus let out a long breath.

“How many stories is this place? I feel like we’ve gone four floors.”

“Five, actually,” Sirius said. 

Remus wondered if Sirius knew that from experience or if he had been keeping track. Instead of asking, he paused to open a door that didn’t lead to a bedroom or a landing, but instead a tiny, tiny cupboard of shelves.

“What the fuck.”

Sirius looked back, swinging the chest with him. “Oh. That.”

So, from experience then—whether it was his house or someone’s that Sirius knew, was the question. “How old is this house?”

“Old. Like, old, old. Ancestors, old. I don’t think anyone’s gone up this staircase in years.”

“No kidding,” Remus said, swiping his finger across a shelf and then rubbing the dust off on his pant leg. “You know, I bet this is where it collected its souls.”

Sirius tossed his head back as he laughed and Remus had to clear the weird feeling in his throat. Probably the dust. He shut the door. They started their climb again and Remus regretted every step of it. Maybe some fit athlete like Sirius or James found this as a walk in the park, but Remus was  _ dying. _ He readied himself for burning thighs in the morning. He gave up all effort at keeping his breaths normal, deciding that when it comes to this point, no one was worth Remus pretending to sound in shape. Screw dignity.

“Souls?”

“What,” Remus wheezed.

“You said it collects souls.”

“Mansion equals monster,” Remus kept it simple, “and it eats souls.”

“But the closet is empty,” Sirius said in a taunting tone. 

“You said it’s been years since someone climbed up here—which,” Remus took in a ragged breath, “is understandable. But, clearly, this is the prime place to digest someone. Bottle their remains in a jar and shelve them in storage until you need ‘em.”

The higher up they went, the darker it became, but Remus made out Sirius’ shaking shoulders. “Laugh it up. I’ll be the one to say I told you so when it consumes you.”

“And you!”

“Fabulous,” Remus said. “You’re probably an illusion luring me into death, actually.”

“Maybe not to death, but I am luring you somewhere.”

“That sounds both creepy and sexual.”

“Is that combo a kink for you? You sound out of breath.”

“Shut—up—and—lure—me—faster.”

“I don’t know,” Sirius said, slowing down, “I need an incentive.”

“James.” Remus, thankfully, didn’t need to wheeze another word because that got Sirius hauling ass. James had a reputation in many ways, one of which was how stupidly protective he was of Remus. Remus hated it, but he had fun with how much it scared Sirius.

Finally, finally,  _ finally _ , Sirius opened up a door at the end of the staircase, leading them to the rooftop.

“Ta-da,” Sirius said, doing a little twirl that came off as sheepish.

Remus bent over, bracings his hands on his knees. Fuck exercise. He knew his New Year’s resolution was to join the gym but that was now obliterated. The cold winter air did not help his sobbing lungs.

It took a few minutes before he straightened up and then walked with Sirius over to the edge where they sat together, a reasonable distance apart. “I would have been more satisfied knowing what’s in the chest,” Remus said. “This is way better than being in the party, though. So, thanks. I guess.”

“You’re welcome. I’d say it’s better when you can see the stars in the summer, but it’s even better with company. Like, with you. You, being the company, I mean,” Sirius said, running a hand through his hair.

Remus wanted to say  _ so smooth,  _ but Sirius looked so genuinely flustered that all Remus managed to say was a soft thank you. The quiet way he said it came out unexpectedly intimate. Remus coughed. “Uh, so, what is in the chest?”

“I actually don’t know. It’s some sort of initiation for the team?” Remus made an  _ ah, _ noise. “And I didn’t do the bet with them so,” Sirius winced, “punishment.”

Remus breathed in through his teeth, a soft hissing sound. “Why would you do that?”

James cried when they lost to their rival university last week. Remus wasn’t quite sure where or how the bet began between the two teams, but losers had to shave their heads. Remus still had a hard time getting used to James’ head void of tight ringlet curls. Shaved wasn’t a bad look on him, but James disagreed and pinned a ziplock bag of his old hair onto the fridge with a magnet.

So, Remus understood how this bet meant a lot. But  _ not _ following through with a bet? Oh, man, was James’ team ruthless. They loved each other like brothers, which meant they fought dirty like brothers.

“My hair is more than just...hair. Having it long means a lot.” Sirius’ fingernails scratched against the chest. “It sounds lame. Anyway, why don’t you want to be here?”

Shivering, Remus pulled his jacket tighter around himself and stared at the little white wisps coming from Sirius’ mouth when he exhaled into the cold. “I don’t really like big groups of people. It would be okay if this was like a party, but these mingle-type things suck.”

“What, you don’t like going like this all night,” Sirius asked, putting on a pained smile with exaggerated enthusiasm. 

Remus laughed. “Exactly. I’m on a new medication that makes my face twitch, especially when I smile big and especially when I make tight, forced expressions.” 

Sirius’ eyes widened. An unpleasant hotness rolled in Remus’ stomach and he ducked his head, looking down, down, down, to the backyard of dark hedges and melting snow.

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Come on,” Sirius’ voice was warm, “show me a smile. Let me see! I bet it’s great.”

Remus ignored him. It wasn’t something he needed reassurance or validation for. 

“Remus, come on. Please. Remus.” 

Remus looked over. Hearing his name in a stranger’s mouth felt surreal. Sirius bobbed his head until he caught Remus’ eyes. His face split into a grin and he gave an encouraging  _ go on _ nod. 

Sirius was very different than he seemed over text, but also somehow the same. His hair looked less shiny than it did over snapshat, but it did look softer. Little bobby pins pinned backed shorter strands of hair. His eyebrow hairs stuck up a little at the end and Remus itched to smooth them out.

Sighing, and with hunched his shoulders, Remus smiled uncomfortably. Nothing happened at first and then—his left muscle cheek spasmed and he struggled to keep the smile there. Sirius laughed but only from Remus dropping the expression quickly into a deadpanned look.

He was a full-body laughter person, every part of him moving and lighting up. It made it hard to resist not smiling.

“I like your face twitches,” Sirius said, breathless with laughter as breathless as Remus had been from the stairs.

“Shut up.”

“Are you cold?”

Remus side-eyed Sirius. “Why?”

Sirius shrugged out of his suit jacket and scooted closer to drape it over Remus, who protested until he felt how warm it was. And it smelled nice, too. Tentatively, Sirius pressed his thigh against Remus’, now that they were side by side.

“A true Casanova,” Remus said.

“Is it working? The corners of your lips are twitching up but that could be the meds—”

Remus elbowed Sirius. The temperature was dropping and they couldn’t be out in the cold much longer. Holding his hands out, Remus said, “Give me the chest.”

“Box,” Sirius said, but handed it over. 

The chest itself was heavy but it barely felt like anything was inside. Remus stole Sirius’ bobby pin—ignoring how cutely the falling strands framed his stupid face—and began picking the lock. 

“What,” Remus and Sirius said. Remus, in shock from what was inside. Sirius, impressed by Remus’ skills.

“Why,” Remus said, “why do you have a chest of whipped cream, a...reindeer? thong, nipple clamps, and a black sharpie. Oh, and a folded note.  _ Sharpie TRAITOR— _ that’s in all caps, by the way— _ across your abs. Or else. _ And then a drawing of a frowny face.” Remus stared at the contents for a handful more seconds, making sure it all really existed, and then turned his attention to Sirius.

Understanding crossed Sirius’ face and he said, too simply, “Streaking.”

“Streaking? Like, through the party? Full naked?”

“I have the thong, don’t I?” That ridiculous smirk reappeared and Sirius shimmied his shoulders. “Glad I kept my hair.”

Remus had several thoughts and things to say, but what was going on in the hedges below stole his attention. “ _ James _ ?”

Sirius squinted, finding the two figures Remus had zeroed in on. “Reg,” he growled.

Remus remembered what James had said before and laughed. Sirius shot him a betrayed look. Careful not to slip off Sirius’ jacket, Remus rummaged through his original jacket pockets, pulling out a handful of items. 

“Don’t ask,” Remus said when Sirius looked at the tub of Vaseline.

“Of course I want to ask now! All you had to say is that it was for chapped lips or something, for fuck’s sake...Also, why do you know what nipple clamps are?”

“Ah! Okay.” Remus found the bottle he was looking for and stood up, carefully moving across the edge of the monster mansion. Sirius trailed behind him, arms hovering around Remus’ hips to grab him. When Remus was directly over James and Regulus, he twisted off the cap and handed it to Sirius. 

James, the dork, tried to shake a hand through his curls that didn't exist. Every line of his body was screaming  _ be cool.  _

Remus turned the bottle upside down. The monster mansion was tall, so it wasn’t a dramatic effect—much of the contents scattered everywhere and fell short. But Remus’ tube was fairly massive and a good amount of glitter found its way down onto James’ head.

Remus ducked back just as James looked up. 

“Sirius!” Remus and Sirius heard him screech.

“Guess that’s your cue,” Remus said, gesturing to the opened chest.

Sirius quickly made time stripping off his clothes. “Guess I won’t be needing my coat back,” he said.

“I guess it gives me an excuse to see you again. I’ll have to return it personally,” Remus said, already at the door to the staircase. Sirius tripped over his pants and looked up with his mouth partly hanging open. “I’ve read your texts to James, Sirius,” Remus said, enjoying the rosy blush that rose to Sirius’ cheeks. Remus twisted the doorknob. “Oh, and I always knew your number was six.” He flashed a smile and then disappeared down the staircase.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
